We first heard about Pebble through an email from a pound puller. She had reached the end of her time, after weeks of waiting, no one had come for her. No one was looking for her. No one was coming back. She was alone.

We don’t know exactly what her life would have looked like before now, but we can piece together enough to know it wouldn’t have been kind. Pebble has been used for breeding, not just once or twice, not just accidentally, repeatedly used and reused until she had nothing left to give. Her rare colouring and gentle nature would have made her valuable for producing puppies, and when she couldn’t anymore, she was thrown away. Left behind like she had never mattered at all.

You wouldn’t guess that Pebble had known such coldness if you met her today. She would come plodding up to you, rest her chin on your knee, and look at you with a raised eyebrow and a wagging tail, wondering if you’d like to give her a cuddle and share your seat. You’d see the trust and love she has in her